Hidden Isle
by Doctor Faustus
Summary: Some doors were never meant to be opened. ::Sebastian/Ciel::


The dawn crept over the lawns, pressing up against the glass windows of a familiar room in the Phantomhive mansion. Within it, a boy slept, oblivious to the touch of the sunlight on his tousled hair, while his butler checked the time and frowned a little at the impatience of the clock's hands. He reached out with a hand gloved in purest white, gently forcing the child to awake.

"Young master, you really must drink some of this tea. I know it's not your favourite but the head of the Phantomhive family should be familiar with the tea of the oriental lands as well, no?"

Ciel watched languidly as the steam rose from the tea, his eyes still soft and sleepy as the scent of the Yuezhou tea wafted over to him. Sebastian had to smile when his young master stubbornly clamped his lips together, his expression displeased until Sebastian caved in, smiling indulgently at that imperious look and spoilt behavior. Sighing a little, he reached out, caressing those lustrous blue-black strands gently.

"Whatever would Master Lau say, to see you spurn his tea thus, hmm?" he teased fondly, secretly amused with the way Ciel was curled into his arm, hiding his face obstinately from the breakfast he refused to partake in.

Sebastian sighed, pressing an indulgent kiss onto his hair, before pulling away reluctantly. He could always warm up the breakfast later. There was no harm letting the young master rest a little longer on a Sunday morning after all.

* * *

Blue yawned wide and deep across the sky, and Finian was delighted to simply stand beneath it, breathing in the smell of freshly cut grass and watching the robins hop amidst the grass. Their red breasts were puffed up against the frost of the early spring as they waited patiently for Finian to toss the breadcrumbs. He wanted to bring one into the mansion to show the young master since the weather was too chilly for the Earl to even consider venturing outside unless it was absolutely necessary. His young master wasn't anything like him, and Finian wondered wistfully for a moment what it must be like to be that frail, possessing of a constitution so delicate that one could be seized with fever, sickening even as the frost of winter alighted upon them.

Wouldn't the young master like to see these charming birds? The robins chirped louder as they squabbled in their scramble for the few remaining morsels. Finian sighed and threw them another handful of crumbs. He leant against a tree trunk absently, considering his dilemma. He couldn't bring himself to put those beautiful birds in a cage, but he couldn't hold them in his hands for fear of breaking their small, delicate bones. It was a splendid day, and if the young master could have been with him, admiring the magnificence of nature surrounding the lovely Phantomhive mansion in all its glory, it would surely lift his spirits and aid in his recovery.

The only problem was how he was going to sneak the young master out of his room.

Sebastian had been rather protective over the young master ever since their return from the great fires in London. Meals were mainly served in the master bedroom, the steaming plates covered and stacked as they were placed onto a flawless, silver cart to be pushed into the room itself. The young master's asthma was a recurring condition in the dry, brittle winter of London and it only grew worse with each year as Sebastian informed them, firmly requesting that they make no attempt to disturb the young master's need for complete respite in order to recuperate fully.

A little over a year had passed since their return, and the young master had mostly kept himself cooped up in his bedroom. Finian knew the pride of the young Earl wouldn't have allowed anyone to see him weakened by an illness, except for Sebastian who stayed by his side faithfully as always. But the mansion – vast, still, silent – was starting to bury them. Even Bard and Maylene seemed listless these days, and Finian knew that they had to be worried sick about the young master's health as well. It was true that the butler masterfully handled every situation, and he had no cause to be this worried, considering Sebastian's steadfast dedication to the welfare of the young master's being, but he _missed_ the young master. He wanted to see him, and show him the beauty of the approaching spring, the many gilded theatres with their elaborate tales of danger and wilderness, and experiencing the simple joy of wandering the streets and tasting everything the world had to offer.

When the heart was full, the body took joy in recovering its former strength.

Had it truly been a year?

Perhaps he would disobey direct orders for once, and visit the young master tonight.

* * *

Sebastian glanced up from pressing the clothes, when Tanaka brought in the delivered mail.

Even in quiet times, there remained the correspondence to be sorted. The young master had told him to deal with matters as he usually did, in keeping with his knowledge of the young master's preferences. Everything that pertained to the Queen's business was to be marked Important and set aside on the young master's desk, while everything else fell into the category of "useless trivialities that serves no other purpose aside from singlehandedly diluting our brains in the cesspool of mind numbing banality".

Ah, but his young master did amuse him so. Sebastian smiled. Human always entertained him with their charming beliefs in what was truly important, and what wasn't. Priorities were everything, and he liked to believe that he had them in crystal clear order. The young master's wishes were to be paramount in everything he did and every choice he made. Really, the young master's weak health was such a chore, making it necessary for Sebastian to intercede in such inconsequential matters.

Then again, it did have its advantages.

"The lady Elizabeth seeks your attendance at the ball thrown in honour of her birthday. Shall I reply with a letter indicating your acceptance, my lord?"

He had to smile when his young master flatly refused, looking almost exasperated at these constant reminders by his demon butler.

"Maylene! Bard!" Finian cried out enthusiastically, waving to them as they carried the parcels into the mansion. There was another special delivery of food and medicinal packages that Sebastian had taken the effort to pick out to aid the young master's recovery. He laughed, simultaneously disbelieving and delighted at the plan he had plotted out carefully, waving the two of them over urgently. Maylene had tripped over her feet before recovering quickly, and Bard swore at her as he leapt to catch the parcels before they landed on the ground.

* * *

"Oh," was all Bard contributed.

When Finian first conceived of his plan, he had expected a more enthusiastic reception than this.

"Is it not good enough?" Finian asked worriedly. He had thought about it for a long time, and finally came up with the solution, where two people would work up a considerable state of chaos in opposing corners of the mansion, while a third waited for Sebastian to be distracted, before sneaking in to see the young master. It might have been a little dubious for a man of questionable abilities to tend to both matters promptly, but Sebastian was well, _Sebastian_, so he had set aside a grand total of ten minutes for someone to save the young master from the drudgery of an everyday routine of sleep, food and medication.

Finian fidgeted a little as he outlined the rest of his plan to the other two servants. He hadn't wanted to say anything, just in case he was depriving them of their chance to be heroic by kidnapping the young master, but he was still pleasantly surprised when both Maylene and Bard fervently and enthusiastically recommended him for the job. Bard had even gone so far as to insist that Finian should be the one to take the young master out of the bedroom, or he might just die_. _

Silly man. Finian smiled – a smile as brilliant as summer sunshine – he knew they were all looking out for him in their own ways, knowing how much he had been longing to be the one chosen to do the job. He did love this mansion and all his friends so much.

* * *

A long, elegant finger pressed against a smooth, ivory key.

In the dimming light of the room, a low, resonant note echoed, and then followed by another, and another. The boy appeared deep in concentration, his fingers sliding over the piano keys touched by the last rays of sunlight.

White, black, white, white black .

He hadn't protested when Sebastian sat him down on his lap, letting him rest against his chest, his uncertain fingers scarcely making a sound against the keys before his butler smiled, his lips against the side of his neck as gentle as a butterfly's kiss. He had reached out then, his larger hands holding the child's own steady; he taught him to caress each key, making each note chime, echoing in the vast room with its smooth oak floors, falling from the piano like droplets of honey, rippling through the air.

Note by note, the strains of the piano grew faint and lonely

In the room rimmed by light, at the end of the darkened corridor, the music played on.

* * *

Finian crouched beside the stairwell, scarcely daring to breathe as he waited in anticipation for the sounds of chaos that would soon begin, according to his schedule. Sebastian was inside the young master's bedroom as always, and he could hear the butler speaking in his low, silken tone to the young master as the sounds of clinking chinaware came from within the room.

It was late at night and the young master was probably taking his usual drink of heated milk, and Finian shivered a little in the cold of the frosty night, imagining the young master's fingers wrapped around a steaming cup, so warm and thick and sweet, steam rising from the cup as he sipped from it. He got lost in his fantasy, resulting in a nasty shock when an explosion occurred in the right wing of the mansion, while what sounded like a glass cabinet, simultaneously threw itself down on the other end of the mansion, its wood splintering as the glass shattered into a dozen pieces.

From the inside, he could Sebastian's voice issue smoothly.

"Please don't be alarmed, young master. I will be back shortly after investigating the source of the disturbance."

Finian hugged himself in excitement, thrilled at the success of his plan as he watched Sebastian leave the room briskly.

He waited a moment more, before the ends of the butler's tailcoat fluttered out of sight around the corner.

* * *

They found him there later.

Sebastian had said nothing, their sleeves brushing momentarily as Sebastian walked past, almost as though his eyes held nothing but the young master. Where they had touched briefly, a touch of ice jolted through him and made him blink for the first time in what seemed like ages. Maylene and Bard came rushing, following right behind Sebastian, when the sight in the room made them come to an abrupt halt as well.

Sebastian's shoes were neatly placed beside the bed, his hands and knees pressing against the glossy silk of the covers as he automatically sought out his young master. Still, Sebastian said nothing to them, biting the edges of his gloves and tugging them off calmly, as he knelt by his master's side.

The covers, a sapphire bleeding deep and dark, contrasted richly against the black velvet of his coat shifting against the sheets. He reached out for the body, pulling him close against his chest, crushing the white silk of the dressing gown in his embrace.

"My god_._" Bard breathed, the cigarette falling from his hands.

They could see the sliver of coldness in Sebastian's demeanor melt away as he held the body close to him, curved lips brushing against the petal softness of a bloodless cheek. They could almost taste the unswerving dedication of the butler, in the gentleness of his fingers combing through the long cobalt hair, tangling in the silken strands that went all the way to the boy's waist, content to hold his master in his eternal slumber.

Ciel's eyes were lifeless, empty, meeting the horrified faces of his servants equally blankly.

Finian was the first to react, his eyes welling up in tears as he blinked hard, turning his head away from the scene in front of him. Reaching out blindly, he pushed the others out of the doorway gently, before reaching for the brass knob and shutting the door quietly.

Some doors were never meant to be opened.

* * *

END

A/N: Yes, I am very sadistic. Yes, I would love to torture them some more. Any suggestions?

**Chindasvinta: **Um, sure, go ahead and translate if you want? I'm very flattered actually. Haha.


End file.
